New Year's Eve
It's the New Year's Eve, according to the Lunar Calendar. New Year is a time for family, yet I've never felt as homeless and rootless as these recent days.
Granted, I have never liked Tet very much. I am an introvert before I came to know about the concept. I enjoy deep and long conversation, but I don't see any point in making small talks with people who I don't care about, and who I know don't care about me. Thus, I don't like visiting relatives who I only see once in a year, repeating the same sentences years after years, without much meaning, and all parties involved struggle to find something to say just to avoid awkward silence. My parents carry out these visits as a duty, something that need to be done. I used to tag along, as a habit, but now, after a time of separation from my family and some distance, both physically and emotionally, I definitely see the task as something boring, and refuse to join them. Tet has lost its magic, not just because I have grown older.
All through the years of living alone abroad, I always had a home to orient myself, like a kite firmly connected to the ground by a strong rope. I longed for it, for the sense of being surrounded by familiar faces and the comfort of repeating things in a sequence and knowing for sure what will come next. For Tet, you need to clean your home. Then, some decoration. You are supposed to pay back all debts, return all borrowed stuffs. You will get the same food, and the mere smell of incense mixed with sticky rice can trigger a flood of nostalgia and almost always bring tears to my eyes.
This year, I not only returned home, but have married. Living in the same city as my parents and my in-law means that I have to live with my in-law, unless I can afford to buy my own place. All of sudden, I am stripped of the only home I have known all my life. I don't know how women generations after generations can quietly accept their fates without any complaining, or any emotional disturbance. I still haven't got used to my grandfather saying "ah, you are going home now?". Or someone greets me with "oh, did you just arrive?". I feel like a tree being uprooted, and it doesn't help that everyone around me takes it for granted. Suddenly, I'm treated like an outsider, a guess. I felt so bitter the first time my grandfather offered me tea. Tea? What is he thinking? And the assumption that I will eventually leave. It's almost like I am kicked out of my house, times and times again. After dinner, my mother would say "you should go home now before it's getting later and colder." I know she is just worried about my well-being, but I can't help feeling weird. Isn't she my home? I don't know if I will ever get used to that.
And there is my husband's house, which by definition (culturally, of course) is my official home now. Besides this man that I have been in a relationship with for almost 5 years now, the rest are basically strangers. Yet I am expected to treat them as though I have known them all my life, and they probably try to treat me as a new family member. How crazy does that sound? They barely know me. My mother in law still doesn't call me when she needs something. She always calls my husband. Even when she wants to offer me some fruits, she talks to her son "tell Van there are apples if she wants some", and I just sit right there. I am slow to adapt, that trait I understand well about myself, whether it is a new school, a new country, or now, a new family.
I have told myself many times that it will take time, and I will feel better and more attached to these people eventually. Several times I felt trapped, with nowhere to turn to and hide. My own home, where I still have a room (which was used as a storage space while I was abroad), can serve as a temporary refugee space, at best. I can't stay overnight without an explanation. I know my parents and my grandparents will worry and probably feel they need to "return" me to the in-law. They now think of me as a "married" daughter, not just a daughter, so they bear responsibility to teach me how to behave like a good daughter in law. They will make me return, if I truly want to leave my in-law. They welcome me when I visit, but I know, if only it is a visit.
The first week of living with my in-law, I was mentally exhausted. I have to admit that my mother in law is quite gentle, and it is easy to get along with her. Yet, I was on edge all the time, and it took a toll after a while. Home is where you can let your guard down, and be yourself without worrying about putting on a presentation of yourself. I couldn't feel that way living in someone's else house. I didn't feel like I belong to this place, and therefore couldn't make myself comfortable in it. I would jump to the kitchen sink when I hear bowls and spoons clicking. I couldn't concentrate on working when my mother in law starts cooking, because I know I'm supposed to be there doing the housework. I broke down crying one day, feeling like I couldn't take it anymore. I just want a space where I can be myself without constant worrying about what others think of me.
Talking about judgement, I have always hated being defined by "womanly" virtues, and now I felt like I am being judged all the time. Of course these are all speculations and feelings, nothing concrete to worry about. Or perhaps I'm just being oversensitive. But I truly miss having my own space and spending time by myself. Now, I feel like whether I am "hardworking" is gauged based on how often I mop the floor, whether I am "skillful" is judged based on a dish I make, whether I am "polite" and "well-behaved" is based on if I say hello to an elder woman who was purchasing some groceries from my mother in law. My own mother keeps reminding me that I need to help my mother in law with her home-based business. The first few times I ignore her, but then she says the same thing so many times it annoys the hell out of me. I am working from home doesn't mean I have plenty of free time to spare. The amount of time I spend in the kitchen is already too much and it cuts in my working hours. I told my mom, "I can earn a lot more with the time I spend helping her sell rice". To that my mom said "but you are a new daughter-in-law". As if that sole fact triumphs every other priority.
I have had a few good cry already. Feeling overwhelmed by a sense of isolation for a prolonged period of time, with no end in sight, is tough. And just a few days ago, my husband raised his voice, telling me off for taking money from his mother to buy some food for dinner. "If you want to eat extra-food, you should spend your own money." I was shocked and insulted, and bitterly thought "Now, having no home means having to swallow these words." And tears flowed again.
But my own home proves to be a disappointment too. A friend once complained to me that her family members are all ignorant without knowing it, and she can't talk to them. I don't have problem with my loved ones knowing less or reading less than me, after all, I am the only one in a working class family who likes to read and gets a Master degree. I am eternally grateful that my parents invested in my education, even though I am "just" a daughter. However, I already find it hard to find common values. It could be because I have lived in a Western country by myself for too long. I don't know how I will turn out if I had never left home and questioned the values of the people closest to me. My father and my aunt have several times commented at dinnertime that "having money will make you king", or "whatever jobs you do, the most important factor is how much you earn". And they speak that statement with such certainty and pride that makes me worried about the youngsters, my brother and my niece. My grandfather, also on a number of occasions, has proclaimed that "if a man doesn't drink alcohol, no woman will want to marry him". He is such a man of self-control and modesty that it shocks me to hear this message the first time. He probably doesn't truly mean it, but again I'm worried about the signal he is sending to the younger men in the family, i.e. my brother and my cousins (all male). My mother, who I know all my life is a woman with little resistance, scolded me for my strong anti-smoking attitude, claiming that "you can't control everyone around you, so don't make a fuss about it." I protested "You can't compromise with the bad, or it will take over you." But then, she just rolled her eyes, thinking in her head (I know it!) that I am the odd one out, and no one will be able to stand me. She teaches me the virtue of patience and letting others have their way. She must be a Tao master in her past life, but I certainly don't want to shut my mouth and breathe in cigarette smoke from the men around me. We don't always talk about money, alcohol or how much second hand smoking bothers me, but I have realized more and more how much I have changed and how strongly I hold my values, which I don't know whether fortunately or unfortunately, differ greatly from those of my family.
And the sense of rootlessness stems from a broader context as well. Tet has lost its magic for me, otherwise I wouldn't have written these negative lines at midnight on New Year's Eve. As I no longer look forward to this time of year for new clothes and lucky money from adults, I feel (again, just feeling), troubled by all the formalities associated with it. What once was a homely sensation of special time for family, now is merely a bunch of responsibilities. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy family meals and catching up with close-relatives (not my father's third and forth cousins), but there are so many dishes to cook, so many tasks to do, that it is all exhausting. Many chickens are killed unnecessarily and too much alcohol consumed, I think. People spend so much time bringing gifts to one another. I am not anti-family either, but can't we have a nice time together without so much hollow gift-giving back and forth and cleaning and cooking and shopping? Can we liberate ourselves from all these formalities? Everyone is tired, everyone is running against time, yet they follow the "rituals" blindly, and get themselves caught in that cycle one year after another.
As for myself, tomorrow is another day that I am grateful for. Lunar Calendar doesn't mean much to me, frankly, except when I work with farmers and talk about their crops. I hope I will be able to take this one week off work to finish studying for a medical interpreter certificate, and take more time to write all the stuffs I have stored in my head.
Granted, I have never liked Tet very much. I am an introvert before I came to know about the concept. I enjoy deep and long conversation, but I don't see any point in making small talks with people who I don't care about, and who I know don't care about me. Thus, I don't like visiting relatives who I only see once in a year, repeating the same sentences years after years, without much meaning, and all parties involved struggle to find something to say just to avoid awkward silence. My parents carry out these visits as a duty, something that need to be done. I used to tag along, as a habit, but now, after a time of separation from my family and some distance, both physically and emotionally, I definitely see the task as something boring, and refuse to join them. Tet has lost its magic, not just because I have grown older.
All through the years of living alone abroad, I always had a home to orient myself, like a kite firmly connected to the ground by a strong rope. I longed for it, for the sense of being surrounded by familiar faces and the comfort of repeating things in a sequence and knowing for sure what will come next. For Tet, you need to clean your home. Then, some decoration. You are supposed to pay back all debts, return all borrowed stuffs. You will get the same food, and the mere smell of incense mixed with sticky rice can trigger a flood of nostalgia and almost always bring tears to my eyes.
This year, I not only returned home, but have married. Living in the same city as my parents and my in-law means that I have to live with my in-law, unless I can afford to buy my own place. All of sudden, I am stripped of the only home I have known all my life. I don't know how women generations after generations can quietly accept their fates without any complaining, or any emotional disturbance. I still haven't got used to my grandfather saying "ah, you are going home now?". Or someone greets me with "oh, did you just arrive?". I feel like a tree being uprooted, and it doesn't help that everyone around me takes it for granted. Suddenly, I'm treated like an outsider, a guess. I felt so bitter the first time my grandfather offered me tea. Tea? What is he thinking? And the assumption that I will eventually leave. It's almost like I am kicked out of my house, times and times again. After dinner, my mother would say "you should go home now before it's getting later and colder." I know she is just worried about my well-being, but I can't help feeling weird. Isn't she my home? I don't know if I will ever get used to that.
And there is my husband's house, which by definition (culturally, of course) is my official home now. Besides this man that I have been in a relationship with for almost 5 years now, the rest are basically strangers. Yet I am expected to treat them as though I have known them all my life, and they probably try to treat me as a new family member. How crazy does that sound? They barely know me. My mother in law still doesn't call me when she needs something. She always calls my husband. Even when she wants to offer me some fruits, she talks to her son "tell Van there are apples if she wants some", and I just sit right there. I am slow to adapt, that trait I understand well about myself, whether it is a new school, a new country, or now, a new family.
I have told myself many times that it will take time, and I will feel better and more attached to these people eventually. Several times I felt trapped, with nowhere to turn to and hide. My own home, where I still have a room (which was used as a storage space while I was abroad), can serve as a temporary refugee space, at best. I can't stay overnight without an explanation. I know my parents and my grandparents will worry and probably feel they need to "return" me to the in-law. They now think of me as a "married" daughter, not just a daughter, so they bear responsibility to teach me how to behave like a good daughter in law. They will make me return, if I truly want to leave my in-law. They welcome me when I visit, but I know, if only it is a visit.
The first week of living with my in-law, I was mentally exhausted. I have to admit that my mother in law is quite gentle, and it is easy to get along with her. Yet, I was on edge all the time, and it took a toll after a while. Home is where you can let your guard down, and be yourself without worrying about putting on a presentation of yourself. I couldn't feel that way living in someone's else house. I didn't feel like I belong to this place, and therefore couldn't make myself comfortable in it. I would jump to the kitchen sink when I hear bowls and spoons clicking. I couldn't concentrate on working when my mother in law starts cooking, because I know I'm supposed to be there doing the housework. I broke down crying one day, feeling like I couldn't take it anymore. I just want a space where I can be myself without constant worrying about what others think of me.
Talking about judgement, I have always hated being defined by "womanly" virtues, and now I felt like I am being judged all the time. Of course these are all speculations and feelings, nothing concrete to worry about. Or perhaps I'm just being oversensitive. But I truly miss having my own space and spending time by myself. Now, I feel like whether I am "hardworking" is gauged based on how often I mop the floor, whether I am "skillful" is judged based on a dish I make, whether I am "polite" and "well-behaved" is based on if I say hello to an elder woman who was purchasing some groceries from my mother in law. My own mother keeps reminding me that I need to help my mother in law with her home-based business. The first few times I ignore her, but then she says the same thing so many times it annoys the hell out of me. I am working from home doesn't mean I have plenty of free time to spare. The amount of time I spend in the kitchen is already too much and it cuts in my working hours. I told my mom, "I can earn a lot more with the time I spend helping her sell rice". To that my mom said "but you are a new daughter-in-law". As if that sole fact triumphs every other priority.
I have had a few good cry already. Feeling overwhelmed by a sense of isolation for a prolonged period of time, with no end in sight, is tough. And just a few days ago, my husband raised his voice, telling me off for taking money from his mother to buy some food for dinner. "If you want to eat extra-food, you should spend your own money." I was shocked and insulted, and bitterly thought "Now, having no home means having to swallow these words." And tears flowed again.
But my own home proves to be a disappointment too. A friend once complained to me that her family members are all ignorant without knowing it, and she can't talk to them. I don't have problem with my loved ones knowing less or reading less than me, after all, I am the only one in a working class family who likes to read and gets a Master degree. I am eternally grateful that my parents invested in my education, even though I am "just" a daughter. However, I already find it hard to find common values. It could be because I have lived in a Western country by myself for too long. I don't know how I will turn out if I had never left home and questioned the values of the people closest to me. My father and my aunt have several times commented at dinnertime that "having money will make you king", or "whatever jobs you do, the most important factor is how much you earn". And they speak that statement with such certainty and pride that makes me worried about the youngsters, my brother and my niece. My grandfather, also on a number of occasions, has proclaimed that "if a man doesn't drink alcohol, no woman will want to marry him". He is such a man of self-control and modesty that it shocks me to hear this message the first time. He probably doesn't truly mean it, but again I'm worried about the signal he is sending to the younger men in the family, i.e. my brother and my cousins (all male). My mother, who I know all my life is a woman with little resistance, scolded me for my strong anti-smoking attitude, claiming that "you can't control everyone around you, so don't make a fuss about it." I protested "You can't compromise with the bad, or it will take over you." But then, she just rolled her eyes, thinking in her head (I know it!) that I am the odd one out, and no one will be able to stand me. She teaches me the virtue of patience and letting others have their way. She must be a Tao master in her past life, but I certainly don't want to shut my mouth and breathe in cigarette smoke from the men around me. We don't always talk about money, alcohol or how much second hand smoking bothers me, but I have realized more and more how much I have changed and how strongly I hold my values, which I don't know whether fortunately or unfortunately, differ greatly from those of my family.
And the sense of rootlessness stems from a broader context as well. Tet has lost its magic for me, otherwise I wouldn't have written these negative lines at midnight on New Year's Eve. As I no longer look forward to this time of year for new clothes and lucky money from adults, I feel (again, just feeling), troubled by all the formalities associated with it. What once was a homely sensation of special time for family, now is merely a bunch of responsibilities. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy family meals and catching up with close-relatives (not my father's third and forth cousins), but there are so many dishes to cook, so many tasks to do, that it is all exhausting. Many chickens are killed unnecessarily and too much alcohol consumed, I think. People spend so much time bringing gifts to one another. I am not anti-family either, but can't we have a nice time together without so much hollow gift-giving back and forth and cleaning and cooking and shopping? Can we liberate ourselves from all these formalities? Everyone is tired, everyone is running against time, yet they follow the "rituals" blindly, and get themselves caught in that cycle one year after another.
As for myself, tomorrow is another day that I am grateful for. Lunar Calendar doesn't mean much to me, frankly, except when I work with farmers and talk about their crops. I hope I will be able to take this one week off work to finish studying for a medical interpreter certificate, and take more time to write all the stuffs I have stored in my head.
